


your touch becomes my everything

by starsaregoingout (abovetheruins)



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/starsaregoingout
Summary: "What is it that you want?"





	your touch becomes my everything

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh i can totally shift all responsibility for this onto the shoulders of those who encouraged me on tumblr when i said i wanted to write kandomere smut last night. 
> 
> ...right?

"What is it that you want?"

You squirm against the pillows piled at your back, wishing you could sink down on the bed. You're too exposed like this, propped up so that you have no choice but to see the rest of the room. To see the other person in the room. That's the point, you know. 

Not that you can't leave. You could, if you wanted to. He wouldn't stop you. That's not what this is about. 

And you don't want to. Leave, that is. There's not a rope or cuff in sight but you're still tethered to this bed by the strength of your own desire.

You know it. Kandomere knows it too.

"Well?"

You flush as you meet his gaze. Moonlight spills into the room through the open window, the only source of illumination; it casts blue-tinted shadows along the bed, the floor, the elf perched on a chair at the other side of the room. Watching you.

Those eyes would stand out even in pitch darkness, you think. Icy blue cutting through the thickest gloom. It isn't ice that prickles along your skin as they pass over you, though. It isn't ice that fills your veins, swells in your belly, brings color to your cheeks. 

It's _heat_ , and you struggle to speak as a wave of it surges through you. "Y-You," you stammer, your voice small and whisper-soft in the silence of the room. 

Kandomere tilts his head, one pointed ear turned toward you. Expectant. Your face flushes hot as you speak again, firming your voice and forcing it steady. " _You_."

Kandomere's shoulders roll as he settles back in the chair, muscle shifting beneath his finely tailored suit jacket. One leg crossed casually over the other, fingers steepled across his stomach, gaze cool and indifferent. The picture of composure and effortless grace.

"Are you certain of that?" he asks, one slim eyebrow raised as he regards you; you and every tell of your body - the subtle trembling of your legs, the twist of your fingers in the bed covers, the jerk of your gaze when his own becomes too much to bear. "It doesn't seem so."

You shiver. He's teasing you, already knowing the truth of your words for himself. How could he not? It's apparent in every twitch of your body; you're incapable of hiding it. 

"Show me."

Your mouth falls open as you look at him, his expression giving nothing away. You falter at the first thought that fills your head, pressing your thighs together as warmth soaks into your blood. "I - You want me to - "

Kandomere doesn't bother to reply; he simply nods.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. It's so loud, so fast. Surely Kandomere can hear it, even from across the room. 

He doesn't say that he'll give you want you want if you obey him, but you reach for your clothes anyway. Your palms are already damp with sweat, making your fingers slip as you pull at the fabric shielding you from Kandomere's gaze. You slide down on the pillows as you slip your legs free, pushing your discarded clothes to the side of the bed and waiting, shaking with suppressed desire, to see what, if anything, Kandomere will do.

Nothing. He merely watches, the blue of his eyes striking in the pale moonlight. Your gaze falls from his, overwhelmed for a moment, but a soft hum of dissent and the barest shifting of fabric makes it jump right back. He's tilted forward, barely enough to be noticeable, and yet still your pulse races.

You hold his gaze as your fingers drift between your thighs, parting your legs despite the fevered heat rushing through you. To keep your head from turning and your eyes from clenching shut takes herculean effort; you're embarrassed by the obvious signs of your lust, the total sense of exposure you feel, and the frustration of being caught in such an maelstrom alone. You already know that your own touch won't be enough.

And yet it slakes the heat boiling in your blood, offers an avenue of relief where no other exists. At least, not yet. So you push asides your reservations and allow your fingers to sink unheeded into soft, wet heat, your lips parting around a sigh at that first touch. You're soaked inside, your inner thighs already damp from your own fluids, and your fingers slip easily along your folds, the barest friction against your swollen flesh making your breath hitch.

Your free hand wraps around a fistful of the bedding as you finger yourself, using slow, steady thrusts that even now have you grasping for breath. Sweat begins to bead on your brow as you delve between your folds, coating your fingers in slick. The wet squelch of your ministrations fills your ears, mingling with your heavy breaths and your occasional whimper as you rub against your clit, making your body sing. 

All the while Kandomere watches you silently, blue eyes trained unerringly on you. On your movements. It's easier that way, easier with his gaze fixed on where your fingers disappear into your body rather than focused on your face. Easier, but not by much. 

Because you can watch him, this way. Watch the way his eyes go dark as you twist first two, and then three fingers inside your cunt. Watch the way his shoulders shift as your thighs fall open of their own accord, giving you more room to maneuver. Watch the way his lips twitch as you whimper his name.

Heat pools in your belly and between your legs as your fingers pick up speed, the wet slap of skin against skin becoming louder, more frequent. It's harder to keep your eyes open, to resist the urge to tilt your head back and roll your hips until you find release - release that's hovering just out of reach, close enough for you to grasp -

"Stop."

You gasp at the command, blinking rapidly to clear the sweat from your eyes. Your fingers pause between your legs, buried within wet, aching flesh. "Kandomere...?"

He rises from the chair, and your heart stutters as his fingers reach for his suit jacket. You watch as he slips first one, then two buttons free of their holes, popping the third and fourth free as he approaches the bed. Your fingers twitch as he finally slips the jacket from his shoulders, down his arms; it falls carelessly to the floor as he pulls his hands free, and your eyes dart between the puddle of expensive fabric and the approaching elf with something akin to wonder. Wonder and a keen, aching desire.

His vest buttons are the next to go, freed just as slowly and discarded just as carelessly, leaving Kandomere in nothing but his dress shirt and tie, his crest gleaming silver in the moonlight. 

This he places on the chest at the foot of the bed. You glance at it for a moment, your heart in your throat, until Kandomere's fingers pulling at the knot of his tie commands your full attention. Your fingers have long since slipped free from between your legs, and they clench in the sheets as Kandomere settles his knee on the bed, his long hair falling forward to graze his cheeks as he moves between your legs.

You whimper at the heat of him, the closeness of him. After nothing but your own touch and the coolness of the pillows at your back, his warmth is overwhelming. His scent washes over you, the soft, woodsy traces of his cologne stoking the fire in your blood. His gaze is all consuming, blue eyes awash with something you can only call _hunger_ , and your chest heaves as he slips his tie free of his collar, allowing it to puddle on the bed with a careless flick of his wrist. His hips slot between your thighs.

You're distracted by the fall of his hair over his shoulders, the soft blue strands brushing against your cheek as he leans over you. Distracted by his gaping collar and the dip of his collarbone, the line of his throat bare to your hungry gaze. So distracted that you don't even notice his hand gripping yours until he's brought it up to his mouth.

You moan, a ragged burst of sound as he curls his tongue against your fingers, licking the taste of your slick from your flesh. Your thighs curl around his hips as he laps at your skin, a soft _ahhh_ escaping your lips as the points of his teeth graze your flesh. Your gazes catch, holding fast. Kandomere never looks away from you, and you can't - won't - look away from him. Not even as he rolls his hips against yours, his cock pressing against your core. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation, the friction nearly unbearable even with the barrier of his slacks between your aching flesh and his. 

Your eye contact doesn't waver, not until you raise your free hand, desperate to touch him, and slip your fingers into his hair. The cool strands slide across your skin like silk, and as your fingertips drag against his scalp, careful around the curves of his pointed ear, Kandomere's eyes slip shut.

The loss of that piercing blue stare does little to quell the rising tide of heat in your belly. If anything it flares even hotter at the fall of Kandomere's lashes against his cheeks and the pink flashes of his tongue against your skin.

He's so _beautiful_. Sometimes it hits you out of nowhere, a single look or gesture reminding you all over again how lovely he is. He enjoys it, you know, the effect he has on you. There are times when he'll simply look at you, his stare unwavering, until you flush red and hide your face away, the soft huff of his amusement simultaneously making you roll your eyes and grin crookedly into your hands. 

Moments like this are when it punches the air from your lungs, however. You've rarely seen anything as striking as Kandomere lost in the throes of arousal. All of his layers stripped away, hair falling forward to frame his handsome face, the long line of his body hot and pliant over yours. 

You whisper his name, your voice cracking over the syllables as his lids part, slits of blue peering down at you. Your fingers slip from his mouth as he leans down, and your own eyes flutter shut as his lips press against yours. You always feel clumsy and desperate when he kisses you, overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips softening against yours, the flicker of his tongue against the seam of your mouth, the sting of his sharp teeth against your bottom lip.

You feel surrounded, devoured, and yet still you want more. Your hands shake as you reach between your bodies, blindly seeking the zip of his trousers, and you whimper in relief as his fingers join yours. Fabric parts and then there's nothing but slick, hot flesh and Kandomere's soft, low hum as you wrap your fingers around him, your heels tucked against his thighs as you guide him to where you need him most.

Nothing prepares you for the heat of him sinking inside you; nothing ever does. It's like the first time all over again, that same heady rush as your flesh parts for his, the same muffled whine escaping your lips as his cock fills you. Your arms wrap around his waist, your fingers clenching fistfuls of his dress shirt as he slowly sinks in, and you try to muffle your breathing, straining your ears, wanting to hear it -

_There_. Beyond the slick sounds of your mouths meeting and the faint creaking of the mattress, you hear it. Hear him. It's the same sound every time - a deep, rumbling groan from the depths of Kandomere's throat as his length sinks fully inside you, every inch of him encased in your hot, wet flesh. Not freely given, but ripped from him. Uncontrolled, and all because of you. It never fails to reignite your desire tenfold, never fails to set your skin aflame, and you mewl in helpless, happy contentment.

Finally, you have exactly what you wanted.


End file.
